The Blind Woman at the Gym

Learning how to see.

I already had my earphones on, and I was about to step on the treadmill in the gym when I felt a tug on my sleeve. I turned around to see an older woman with sunglasses and a walking stick standing before me.

"Can you help me onto the machine?" she asked. I helped her set up her walking stick beside the elliptical machine, and she smiled warmly. "Such sweet women in this gym,” she remarked. “It's so nice to be around all these lovely people every morning."

The woman felt around for the handles of the machine and steadied her feet on the foot pedals. Then she thanked me and faced towards the picture window, moving slowly but steadily. I stared at the stunning orange, red and yellow leaves swirling from the trees and then I looked around me, at the dozens of women exercising. I realized that I hadn't really noticed any of them before. I was always rushing in and out of the gym, constantly late for something. But this blind woman beside me noticed them. She senses people’s movements in a way I am not attuned to. She hears kindness in voices that I don't even hear, as I block out any sound with my own music.

"For most addicts, everyone else is traffic."

It reminded me of something a professor said when describing the loneliness most addicts feel when the object of their addiction replaces their social relationships. "For most addicts, everyone else is traffic." When an addict begins to spiral downwards, each person in his life becomes merely an obstacle to his goal of using. Connecting with others begins to feel like a waste of time. Relationships start to "get in the way" of what he wants. The addict travels down his futile road with great impatience, searching for instant gratification and wishing he could make anyone or anything in his path just disappear.

I drove home from class that day thinking about the professor’s statement as my car crawled along the highway. I thought about it as I stood on line at the grocery store waiting interminably. And it struck me – it's not just addicts, but so many of us view everyone else as traffic too.

The blind woman in the gym didn't have this problem. To her, everyone was a blessing and a hand to hold. And when I stood later that day on line at the supermarket, I kept reminding myself to try to see things the way the blind woman did.

Ironically, a customer at the front of the line was having trouble opening her pocketbook, and when she finally got it open, all her coupons spilled onto the floor. There was a collective sigh from the people on line. One guy talking on his phone said loud enough for all of us to hear, "Great, this is just what I need right now."

An older man who was standing in front of him spun around and asked, "Where are you rushing to? What is so important that you can't wait two extra minutes for someone to find her coupons? Why don't you help her instead?"

The man with the phone looked stunned for a minute, and then he went over to help the woman pick up her coupons while the rest of us stood frozen in place. "I just don't understand people today,” the elderly man shook his head and mumbled. “It's like no one can look up from their phone for even a second, everyone else is in the way."

Unpacking the groceries in the kitchen that day, I thought about another elderly man who had taught my husband and me a similar lesson when we first moved to Israel. We were going to buy a couch, and we were in a rush. Someone had recommended a tiny store that had good quality furniture. My husband met me there after shul one morning. We entered the store and the salesman greeted us, staring at my husband's tefillin bag.

"Is that tefillin?"

My husband nodded.

"My grandfather wore tefillin. But I haven't worn tefillin since my bar mitzvah," he sighed. We stood there, not really knowing what to say. Somehow, "Can you show us which couches you carry in white leather?" didn't seem like the right question at the time.

"Do you want to put them on?" my husband asked.

The older, Sephardi man's eyes lit up. "But I don't know what to say, and I don't have a kippah."

Then he suddenly had an idea; he grabbed a piece of cloth from the desk and put it on his head.

"Show me what to say!"

My husband taught him how to put on the tefillin and showed him where the Shema was in his siddur. I needed to go because I was almost late for class. I gave up on the couch and left my husband there, teaching a man with a couch cloth on his head how to pray. I stood at the window for a moment watching my husband find another page in the siddur and thinking that we almost missed out. If I would have asked to see the couches...If my husband hadn't offered his tefillin...If we hadn't sensed the salesman’s special, yearning soul...If we would have instead seen him as being in our way, taking up our time, just traffic, we would have lost a precious opportunity to give.

I look forward to seeing the blind woman in the mornings at the gym. She teaches me to see and hear. She teaches me to look around and reach out my hand to help, before I turn on the day's treadmill.

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About the Author

Sara Debbie Gutfreund received her BA in English from the University of Pennsylvania and her MA in Family Therapy from the University of North Texas. She has taught parenting classes and self-development seminars and provided adolescent counseling. She writes extensively for many online publications and in published anthologies of Jewish women's writing. She and her husband spent 14 wonderful years raising their five children in Israel, and now live in Blue Ridge Estates in Waterbury, Connecticut, where Sara Debbie enjoys skiing and running in her free time.

Visitor Comments: 15

(15)
Sarah,
November 18, 2012 4:31 AM

Take the next step and BEFRIEND the blind woman

This story reminds me of something that happened to me 19 years ago when I was doing my undergraduate degree. Our university required us to take a PE class. Being an English and French major at the time, I considered a PE class a waste of time and so I chose something 'easy' called "fitness walking". The first day of class, the gym teacher told each of us to pick a walking partner because we were to travel in two's in a line. As I looked up from my books and surveyed the room for someone I knew, I found no familiar face. Then, at the very edge of class, in a corner, sat a blind girl and her leader dog who was an adorable black lab with soft brown eyes. The first thing I noticed was the other classmates looking toward her nervously, then back at each other, and then pairing off with each other and avoiding her because of their own discomfort. I thought to myself, 'thank Goodness she can't see their faces.' I walked over and cheerfully said to her, "Hi, I am Sarah and I would love to be your walking partner this semester.' The blind girl, with her beautiful long brown curly hair and eager smile quickly introduced herself as Angie and her dog as Sarge. All three of us, Angie, Sarge, and me walked together all semester and became great friends. We regularly got together even after the class ended and remained friends until I moved 2,000 miles away. Angie and I lost touch over the years, but the other day she found my parent's phone number, called them and asked to be put in touch with me. We talked for hours that day and she told me about her marriage and her two children. Then, she hesitated and said, "My daughter, my first born...I named her Sarah-- after you..." Tears came to my eyes and I told her I was touched. She continued, "I met you when I was a freshman. You were a senior-- and you weren't disabled. And you took me in as family at a scary time in my life." After we ended the call, I gave gratitude to G-d for giving me such an opportunity to meet Angie.

(14)
dee,
November 14, 2012 8:36 PM

i luv this article

as someone who is always rushing i feel you wrote this for me, i will try to be more caring and stop looking at people i bump into as as 'wasting my time'. many thanks!

(13)
Raphaelle Do Lern Hwei,
November 13, 2012 2:24 PM

Blindness

Very good article. The blind woman in your gym has a beautiful and courageous soul. Her handicap did not prevent her from living life to the fullest, including appreciating the people she meets daily - her excercise buddies. Very few nowadays slow down a little to help or appreciate others.
Glad that your husband helped the furniture shop man "see" the Almighty again. It is only when we know G-d and appreciate Him, can we learn to be wise and get our priorities straight.

(12)
Ben David,
November 12, 2012 7:33 AM

Inner Self-Doubt = Outer Impatience

We are less tolerant of others when we don't feel good about ourselves. The media have presented unattainable images of perfection, which lead many of us to feel inadequate.
When we accept ourselves, we then have room in our hearts for others, and can have compassion.

(11)
Anonymous,
November 12, 2012 1:43 AM

A wonderful story.

(10)
Janis Altman,
November 11, 2012 11:10 PM

Who is wise

"who is wise"one who learns from every man.
Once again you teach us when we open our hearts we open our souls and we can see.
What an beautiful soul u have.
Thank you.

(9)
Bracha Goetz,
November 11, 2012 10:16 PM

Thank you !

What a beautiful article!

(8)
Kelly Woodard,
November 11, 2012 9:43 PM

Beautiful

Thank you for a most thought provoking and eye opening article!

(7)
Anonymous,
November 11, 2012 7:27 PM

lovely story

i wish more people would realise that not everyone knows how to do everything. just a little patience and giving of ones knowledge can help a person so much.

(6)
Paula T,
November 11, 2012 6:52 PM

How true and well expresed. I wrote an essay several months ago with basically the same message-- living in the "moment" and appreciating where one is and with whom. Mine was prompted by catching sight of a woman on her cell phone obliviously "walking?" her dog (well ahead of her and almost out of sight) as I enjoyed a beautiful morning through my kitchen window.

(5)
ruth housman,
November 11, 2012 6:40 PM

two women friends

I know two women. The first woman I met at the Carl Jung Institute in Newton, MA. I spoke about a life of massive synchronicty and was greeted with silence, as if, after, I had no spoken at all, invisible. The color of Clear. Clear water. Then a woman approached me, and she said, "I don't understand this silence. What you said had a huge impact on me." And so began a friendship with a woman who is a beautiful poet. When we decided to meet, she brought a friend of hers, and this friend, remarkably is blind. But one would hardly know it. She doesn't look or act blind, and she has an active mind, and sees everything. There is an inner world, that is also about vision, and I can say, in many ways, Joanne, sees more than most. It turns out my friend from the Jung Institute, Diane, worked for years at Perkins School for the Blind and put together a beautiful book about the life of Louis Braille. So forgive me, for telling this story, sparked by YOUR beautiful story. People are blind in many ways, and one is surely, to each other, and the wealth that exists in being, simply being, a light, and that applies to this wonderful woman, in the gym whose words, taught you something ineffably deep about what's important.

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

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